The Uneven Chance
by elfmaiden4legs
Summary: Part of my 'Like The Son He Never Had' series covering Pellew and Hornblower's growing relationship during the series and which also includes my other story 'The Plague Ship', so as you can tell I'm not going by order! Hornblower comes to the Indie's aid!


**The Uneven Chance**

**This is my second story in my series 'Like The Son He Never Had' depicting Pellew and Horatio's growing and developing relationship through the series. This installment does not follow on from my previous story 'The Plgaue Ship' but preceedes it, taking place shortly after the take over of the 'Pappion' in the first episode. Hornblower comes to the aid of the 'Indefatagable', although I didn't want there to be the same level of emotion depicted between the two in this as I have shown with my other Hornblower stories, as you have to take into account that in the sceme of when this is set their relationship is only just beginning to take form. Please don't forget to REVIEW! Enjoy! **

"By God, poor devils." Captain Pellew stared on with a mixture of numb regret and bewildered awe at the scene of unquestionable if not somewhat bittersweet British victory which had just unfolded before him. The French fleet were beaten, the entire stern of one of their great vessels completely blown away in a moment of cannon fire. The rest of the French Navy were now surrendering, dead and survivors alike sharing the same murky depths of the ocean's bitter waters.

Although there was a fresh, salty sharpness to the air, it was still masked in part by the mild scent of gunpowder and the thick acrid smoke which had billowed out from the point of the explosion. Pellew looked around in discontented curiosity for any indication of where the victorious shot had been fired from, not made by the hard pressed crew of the '_Indefatagable_' that was for certain, and he had seen no sign of the presence of an ally ship when the French fleet had first started firing upon them what now felt like it must have been several hours since, but which was in reality he knew (as was usually always the case) to only have been mere minutes.

It didn't take him long however to spot through his glass the form of the French ship, the '_Pappion_', her French colours still in flight throughout their recent battle her crew had spared her the same inconvenience of the far less fortunate '_Indefatagable_', although it now became all too clear where from the fateful shot had been fired, as her French colours, the tell take stripes of the French flag were lowered, to be replaced by the British red, white and blue. Her take over had been successful after all then, but now he got to wondering about his men, how many of his crew had survived, and how many must have fallen during the initial boarding of the '_Pappion_'? Who even now had control over the magnificent hulk of the ship, and had in no small feat just saved all of their lives?

There was one member however of his most recent intake of crew whom he found himself permitting to dwell upon the most… the young Hornblower. An exceptional youth, although lacking in military experience when he had first set food upon his ship, and some would say bearing the load of a most unfortunate start to both his career and reputation, Pellew had somehow seen great things in the young Midshipman, great things which were no doubtedly still yet to come. That was if the boy was not already amongst the inevitable fallen.

…and then he saw, not a boy, but a man… a truly great man, who's young soul burnt with the exact measure of both the strength and ambition of an officer whom considerable things could be expected of. No only this, but a good man, he had seen that also, although there was nothing of the same sincerity in the likes of Mr. Simpson's eyes. Men could be very much like ships in Pellew's opinion he thought, it took the finest, only the most sturdy and solid to make the grade, but this could not protect them once they were finally set against the perils of the sea.

As had the young Hornblower's, Mr. Simpson's reputation had preceded him to a degree. Just like the ship which within a week at war may be holed and sunk, dragging the rest of her valiant crew down with her, he had risen only so far in the ranks, but with his commission refused was unlikely to rise any further… which the man himself in all honesty probably knew, and although new to a life at sea, Pellew had recognised ever since he had heard of Mr Hornblower's admirable handling of the French frigate and her crew, just days after being assigned to the '_Indefatagable_', that a long and prestigious career was surely on the cards for the likes of a man such as Hornblower…

No, he was alive, he knew it, he had to be…

Although all of this took place in no more than a fleeting moment of thought, his attentions drawn back all too swiftly to the scene of devastation which had recently unfolded before him, and the splintered wreck of fractured wood and fragmented glass which had once played it's part so profoundly in the French war effort.

Yes, Mr. Hornblower would make it through, he was well assured of that. But there were more pressing issues to be dealt with for the moment, the tending of the wounded amongst them, and Captain Pellew knew his duty above all else to keep a clear mind and composed disposition as far as was absolutely possible in front of the men, and whilst in command of his ship…

For the sake of his country….

…yes, for the sake of England.


End file.
